It Began with a BBFT

I think the only people that can identify with the idea of hospital stay being a mini vacation are moms and super driven crazy type A people.  I am sure it sounds crazy that the last several days have seemed like a little getaway for me but it's true.  I am the kind of person that just can't stop 'doing'. I am constantly making to do lists and eagerly checking them off. Relaxing doesn't necessarily come easy--unless I don't have a choice. If you put  me in an environment where laundry, dishes, and vacuuming are not an option then I am quite good at seizing the moment and really enjoying some down time.  That is exactly what the last 4 days have been.

While the rest of Columbus has been going about their daily routines in single digit temperatures we have been holed up in a cozy hospital room (yes, a hospital room can be cozy believe it or not) with a warm and cuddly newborn--and our laptops, cell phones, ipad and nook of course (we can't be totally cut off from the real world, that's just craziness).  Sure, I have had to endure significant invasion of privacy every 4 hours and I literally shuffle to the bathroom but isn't that a small price to pay for meals delivered to your room, a TV that can be positioned 4 inches from your face, an endless supply of ice chips and most of all, a break from my usual mommy/work responsibilities.  What could be better than sitting on an adjustable bed snuggling a sleeping newborn on your chest while catching up on hulu shows?  Best of all, Ryan has been with me on most of this mini vacation. Of course it is not a typical couples vacation--he sleeps across the room on a vinyl couch with hospital sheets and blankets while a revolving door of medical professionals violate the privacy of his wife and newborn child.

I must go off on a quick yet funny tangent about the hilarity of this scenario of multiple healthcare workers wandering into your dark room at all hours of the night.  I can be woken up from a dead sleep and be very coherent, but the same cannot be said for Ryan. He is so confused when all of these different people come in. He sits up bleary eyed and tries to look alert when people come in but usually fails miserably.  Our usual conversation throughout the night:
Ryan: 'who was that?'
Heather: 'it was the PCA',
Ryan: 'oh, what's that?' . . . 30 minutes later

Ryan: 'was that the PCA?'
Heather: 'no, that was Dr. Turner who delivered our baby'

30 minutes later

Ryan: 'did you feed the baby?'
Heather: 'yes, about three times throughout the night'
Ryan: 'oh, when did he get in here?'

Anyhow, I digress. . .

Not only have these last few days given me downtime to relax, but I find that there is nothing like a post partum hospital stay to bond your marriage. You think I am kidding, but when I reflect on our two birthing experiences and the days that followed I really think it brought us closer as a couple. Of course one of the obvious reasons is that we brought a child (or children) into the world and into our family. However, the less obvious reasons for this bonding (but I think those of you that have been through it would agree with me) involve the concept of complete trust and dependency on your husband during the days following the birth of your child and his willingness to step up to the plate at this time and not think you are the most disgusting woman on the face of the earth.  I mean, when you have to ask another human to pull up your underwear for you--that takes some vulnerability--and the underwear thing is a very mild example of post partum vulnerability (I don't want to scare off people contemplating parenthood) that occurs thanks to the miracle of childbirth. Being a vulnerable person is not my usual M.O. so having to play this role, and also having Ryan still respect me through it all is a marriage building moment.

So as checkout time looms closer and I write this from the lovely organizational tray that conveniently swings over my bed I lament the end of our mini vacation . . . but I am looking forward to jumping back into life as a mother of three and a family of five.

So, Honey, warm up the minivan, we're coming home.


Some pics from our 'vacation'